Kick-Ass 3: The End REWRITE
by MMPRFansince93
Summary: Set immediately after Kick-Ass 2 the movie. EVERYTHING up to now is canon. Hit-Girl leaves Kick-Ass with a kiss and New York City in her rear-view mirror and doesn't look back. Where does she go? Who does she meet? What happens to Kick-Ass? Let's just say, if you think you have everything planned out, something is bound to go different. Mindy/OC eventual Mindy/Dave.


November 2012

_Holiday Inn, Wadsworth, Ohio_

(Mindy's POV)

Tonight was a fucking blur and a half. It was batshit crazy to think how much had happened. We defeated Chris and his band of fucktards at his prissy little lair on the opposite side of New York just the previous night. God, the hulking Russian dike was a tough fucking customer. But in the end, nobody picks a fight with Hit-Girl and lives to see the end of it. Anyway, I was laying on my bed at the Holiday Inn I was staying at when visions of this morning played in my head like a broken fucking record:

_FLASHBACK_

_Queens, New York, home of Dave Lizewski_

I had dropped Dave off at precisely 8 a.m. at his now-late parents' home in Queens after the mega-brawl with Chris's goons:

"_Thanks for the ride. So I guess I'll see you at school next week?"_

But then I dropped a bomb that would hurt me as much as I think it hurt him:

"_I'm leaving New York, Dave. I can't go home. I can't put Marcus in that position."_

Goddamn it, I did NOT want to tell him that! I wanted to cry right there. If I could have done ANYTHING, I would've stayed with him. Or taken him with me. But I did NOT want to leave New York completely unprotected and I did NOT want the fucking corrupt NYPD watching my every fucking move. Dave, of course, begged me to stay:

"_Why? Marcus won't arrest you! You just saved the city!"_

But I was NOT about to risk anything:

"_Well, I also happened to kill six people with a cop's gun. Vigilantes don't get a free pass."_

Before that super-brawl happened, I swiped Marcus' gun off him at the cemetery and gunned down those six thugs in the van that had kidnapped Dave. But, in true Dave fashion, he continued to desperately plead, even though he didn't show it:

"_You can't go! People need you!"_

I don't know how, but I convinced him to stay behind to protect New York by telling him he had become the superhero was meant to be:

"_They have you now."_

And I was dead fucking serious about that. Dave had come such a long way from when Daddy and I first met him it even shocked me. But, being the whiny bitch Dave can still be sometimes, he continued to make excuses:

"_I'm not like you."_

While that was true in every aspect, I think I finally got through his thick skull when I told him this:

"_You don't have to be a bad-ass to be a superhero, Dave. You just have to be brave."_

Then, I saw a small smile form on his face. I knew that I finally got through to him. But moments later, I did something that even surprised me...I kissed him. Right then and there. I felt all tingly after I parted from him. Did I suddenly like him like..._that_? And that much? Shit. Something else for me to worry about now. Not that it's a bad thing. Anyways, I'm pretty sure it surprised him and much as it did me:

"_What was that?"_

I just rolled my eyes and smirked. There was no other way to tell him:

"_My first kiss."_

Then, I finally bade him good-bye the only way I knew how:

"_Now be nice, or I'll rip your ass out through your mouth."_

As a put my helmet on, Dave blurted out one more question:

"_When will you be back?"_

And I flipped open my visor gave him one last honest answer:

"_When you least expect it."_

And with that, I had revved up my Ducati, left my home of 15 years and my crime-fighting partner, new-found best friend, and, let's face it, potential boyfriend, behind in my trails and made a beeline for a safe haven. Before I knew it, I was headed westbound on Interstate 80. On the highway to nowhere. The ride was pretty uneventful. Just the way I wanted it to go. I drove past countless quarries and frost-covered open fields on my westward journey. I'll also admit that I did get a bit uneasy whenever I spotted a state trooper drive past me or perched nearby. Like I don't fucking need anymore close calls. After a 400-plus mile ride from New York and a few stops in between, my ass was sore to the point where I had to turn in for the night. Pretty sure that's a record I never am, nor want to fucking break. Ever. And I still have more than 200 miles to go before I reach my final destination. Son of a bitch. Maybe I should have kept going.

_PRESENT TIME_

_Holiday Inn, Wadsworth, Ohio_

Anyway, I pulled off of Interstate 76 West and checked in at the Holiday Inn in Wadsworth, Ohio, a small city just west of Akron at 3 p.m. The place itself was actually pretty nice. When I got to my room, I immediately collapsed on the bed. I have never been this fucking tired in my life. I finally woke up after a 3-hour nap and immediately felt recharged, yet disgusting. And starving. There was a Bob Evans restaurant nearby, so that did the trick. After I had dinner, I went back to the hotel and did a full body workout in the fitness center. Then I finally headed back to my room and grabbed a shower. God, it felt like heaven. After I cleaned up and re-dressed, I laid back on the bed, grabbed my phone and made a call I had be meaning to make all day:

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, it's Mindy."

"_Hey kid! Long time no see! How are you holding up?"_

"I'm good." Worst. Lie. EV-ER.

"_How's New York?"_

"Crazy. Some major shit went down and now Marcus doesn't think I'm safe there all of a sudden."

"_Oh my God. What happened?"_

"I promise I will explain everything when I get there. I'm headed your guys' way right now. Sorry about the short notice. I should have told you guys earlier, I guess."

"_Yeah, that would've been nice to know sooner. Does your school know about this?"_

"Yeah, about school..."

"_What did you do?"_

"I got suspended."

"_Suspended!? For what!?"_

"Exacting revenge."

"_Oh, Mindy. You know that probably could have been handled a lot better."_

"I didn't even hurt them. And it was totally called for."

"_Uh-huh. Sure. What's done is done, I suppose."_

"I'm not going back there."

"_Um, OK. When are you going to be here?"_

"Sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"_All right. We'll have the guest room set up for you when you get here. How long do you think you will be staying here?"_

"I honestly could not tell you. It could be three days, three weeks, three months, three years even."

"_Well, we'll take it by day, I suppose. What all are you bringing with you?"_

"Couple bucks and a few changes of clothes."

Plus a collection of knives and guns as far as the eye can see. And three million dollars in a suitcase. But they don't need to know that.

"_All right. Guest room will be ready when you get here. We'll see you tomorrow. Wait, you probably need the address."_

"Yeah. That would help."

I got the requested address I needed to go to.

"Awesome. Can't wait to see everybody again."

"_That should do it. We can't wait to see you either. Good night, kiddo."_

"Good night."

I clicked off my phone and went to the desk. I grabbed some paper and stationery that were in the drawer. I came up with this idea while I was on the phone. I took out a pencil and penned a letter to Dave. I decided to send it long way because I was afraid any call, text or e-mail I would send could get tracked. And there wasn't a public computer nearby. So I decided to go the to post office first thing tomorrow morning to get the necessary postage. After I wrote the letter, I took to my bed and looked straight up at the ceiling and let out a shaky breath. Tomorrow was going to be the start of my second new life. Fuck.

_THE NEXT DAY_

My alarm went off at 7 a.m. The next morning. I re-dressed and was able to walk to the post office since it was a half mile away from the hotel. I purchased the needed postage and mailed the note in the hotel's mail box. I hope nobody saw anything. I then went back up to my room and re-did my hair because it was a fucking mess. Then, I put my black leather wardrobe back on, grabbed my things and proceeded to check out. The douche at the front desk just had to mention the Ducati:

"_Is that your bike, kid?"_

"Yeah. Why the fuck do you care?"

"_Geez. I was just asking."_

"My most prized possession. Cost me $20,000."

"_Twenty grand?! Holy shit! How'd you afford it? You're just a kid!"_

"My daddy and I won the lottery." Another lie. Like I gave a shit.

"_Awesome. Where are you headed?"_

"Somewhere far the fuck away from here."

And with that, I left Wadsworth in my rear-view mirror and headed west. I was back on 76 in nothing flat and sped towards U.S. Route 224. After several more hours of riding through small towns and open fields, I reached U.S. Route 30, which would take me to the next state over, Indiana. After fueling up at a truck stop in a town called New Haven (didn't know there was another one outside of Connecticut), I sped around on to Interstate 469 which took me to my final destination of Fort Wayne. When I got off the interstate, I pulled up into a ritzy neighborhood on the city's north side. It was a certainly a nice place, but nothing like New York's ritzy suburbs.

I pulled to the address I was given over the phone. 7330 Hawksnest Trail, Fort Wayne, Indiana. I swear to God, he better have gave me the right address or I'm going to make him fucking regret it. I parked my Ducati right next to a black LAMBORGHINI AVENTADOR! Awesome! I took my duffel bag I brought with me and lightly knocked on the door. Immediately, a middle-aged man in his 40's answered it. I knew exactly who it was when I first made eye contact. Our faces lit up.

"_Mindy! Glad you made it! Great to see you again!_

We pulled each other into a tight embrace.

"Great to see you again...Uncle Dan."

Yes, the man at the door was Dan Macready, my daddy's younger brother. He was also the person I called last night. We set up last-minute living arrangements over there for me after the shit that went down in New York. We just didn't know when I'd be there. I also said hello to his wife, my Aunt Cathy, who was beyond thrilled to see me. But I think she was just happy to have another female in the house. I also saw my two younger cousins, Michael and Matthew. Yeah, all of us Macready kids being with M. It's fucking weird. Anyway, I hadn't see the lot of them in three years, when we were at Daddy's funeral. You're probably wondering why I didn't just stay with Uncle Dan after Daddy's death. Well, to be straight, I didn't want to leave New York. Plain and simple. Not after the shit that went down. He had offered to take me in, but I insisted that I stay. He relented, Marcus took me back, and then Marcus sent me to live with them. Funny how shit works out sometimes.

We had just sat down for dinner and I was rattling off on everything about what was going on in New York (well, everything NOT involving Hit-Girl). I generated some laughs (and shocks) through all my ramblings. They also told me what was going on here since I last saw them. Seemed kind of boring, but not every city is New York.

After we finished up, I sat outside in the back yard. I was wondering if I could trust Uncle Dan or anybody here, for that matter with my explosive secret. While I was pondering, I noticed a trap door in the ground. I took a look at it and just as I had hoped, it was underground cellar. I ran around to the driveway, pushed my Ducati to the cellar and was trying to stow it underneath when I heard a voice:

"_Mindy, what are you doing with your bike?"_

My heart almost stopped. I turned around to see Uncle Dan standing right before me.

"Putting it in the cellar."

"_Why?"_

"I don't want it to get stolen."

"_OK. Just let me give you a hand."_

And true to his word, he helped me lug my Ducati into the cellar. But then he gave me a concerning look:

"_Are you OK, Mindy? You look like you're hiding something."_

"Um, no. I have no reason to do that."

"_Well, just know if you need anything, you can come to me or Aunt Cathy."_

"OK."

And with that, Uncle Dan went back inside. Too. Fucking. Close. Eventually, I would have to tell somebody here my secret. I think I could trust Uncle Dan with it, but it would have to be for another time. A few hours later, still feeling the second long jaunt earlier in the afternoon, I headed upstairs and called it another early night. Tomorrow, I was going to drop the bomb.


End file.
